


Numb

by Halosydne



Series: Clint Barton One Shots [2]
Category: Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Disabled Character, Clint Barton Feels, Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Clint Barton-centric, Deaf Character, Deaf Clint Barton, He's so cool, Hurt Clint Barton, Injury, Please do not erase deaf Clint Barton, and deaf at the same time, hearing loss, lucky - Freeform, pizza dog - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-16
Updated: 2016-06-16
Packaged: 2018-07-15 12:19:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7222084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Halosydne/pseuds/Halosydne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was too close to the blast… eventually, he might get about 20% of his hearing back, after time, and potentially surgery – but that was a generous estimate. He was lucky enough to be alive, the doctor said, he should be thankful, the doctor said. </p><p>Or… not said, he supposed. It had to be typed out for him, seeing as Clint couldn’t fucking hear.</p><p>Clint felt numb.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Numb

Clint felt numb.

And a little bit cold, but that was probably because the heating wasn’t up.

But, mostly, just... numb.

It was so strange, this empty, echoing silence that simply went on and on. You didn’t realise how much you could hear, until suddenly, you couldn’t.

The quiet buzz of electricity from the lights, the bubbling and whistling of the coffee pot as it came to the boil, the humming of the kitchen appliances, the dull click-clack of Lucky’s claws as he walked over the wooden floor.

All of that was… just gone. Clint almost felt like he was floating, as he walked over to the couch to sit down, as he was now unable to hear even his own footsteps. That, and your ears helped you balance apparently, so he was probably staggering across the floor like a drunkard. It would be a couple of weeks until they could get him hearing aids, the doctor had said. His ears were too much of a mess right now to do anything with them, really, as evidenced by the mass of bandages that were currently wrapped around his head that he had to constantly keep reminding himself to stop fiddling with, or they would start to unravel and fall off.

This whole thing still felt like a dream, and Clint himself couldn’t quite believe it. He’d had hearing trouble before – he remembered one time he’d been forced to make an impromptu sniper’s shot, without his ear protection and his head had rung for what felt like days from the noise of the shot. Worse than any hangover – and he’d thought his right ear might never recover, but… in the end it had.

This time, the doctor said, it wouldn’t. He was too close to the blast… eventually, he might get about 20% of his hearing back, after time, and potentially surgery – but that was a generous estimate. He was lucky enough to be alive, the doctor said, he should be thankful, the doctor said. 

Or… not said, he supposed. It had to be typed out for him, seeing as Clint couldn’t fucking hear.

Clint felt numb.

 

But not just numb... Angry. Upset. Scared. Confused.

Deaf.

And worst of all, he felt useless. He didn’t know much about hearing loss, but he was pretty sure you couldn’t have deaf agents working in the field. They were a liability. A risk. If you can’t hear, how can you watch your partner’s back? How can you fight if you can’t hear the enemy coming?

You can’t, that's how.

He was fucking helpless.

Suddenly, he felt something brush against his leg, and he jumped, nearly out of his skin, already reaching for a gun that wasn’t there before he realised that it was only Lucky. Oh yeah… He couldn’t hear him walking any more, could he? Lucky looked like he was whining, but Clint couldn’t be sure. Though… they said that dogs could tell when they’re owners were distressed, didn’t they, and come to think of it, the poor guy did look a bit worried, looking up at Clint with those big chocolate eyes.

“Good boy.” He said as he scratched behind the dog’s ears, the words feeling strange. He wasn’t sure if he could really hear himself, or if his brain was just filling in the gaps. Lucky opened his mouth and shut it again – barking. Clint sighed, and moved both his hands to pet his faithful pizza-loving companion. Lucky’s tail started wagging, and Clint could feel the ripples of the motion all the way up Lucky’s sides, and that was enough to cause him to crack a slight smile, the corner of his lips lifting up despite his dark mood.

“You’re a good boy.” He repeated, this time more forcefully, as he got up, and walked over to his desk. The walk was more than a little wobbly – but Lucky walking beside him, side pressed to Clint’s calf helped steady him. 

Yeah, Clint was fucked. He was angry and upset and scared and confused.

He was deaf.

But that wasn’t going to change any time soon.

And, if there was one thing he had learnt from his fucked up childhood, from running from foster home to foster home to the damn circus of crime and eventually to SHIELD…

It was that being useless?  
Being helpless?

Those things... were a goddamn choice.

He could sit there, and mope, feeling all sorry for himself, or...

Opening up his laptop, he started typing into the search bar “Learn sign language”.

 

Clint had made his choice.

**Author's Note:**

> Any feedback would be great.
> 
> Find me on Twitter @GoldenMarksman


End file.
